Two sides of different coins
by otherhawk
Summary: Aya comes home after a mission, tired, injured and determined to face Yojhi. What has he done? Potential AY warning.
1. Chapter 1

Two sides of different coins

_Disclaimer: I don't own Weiss Kruz. If I did, they'd never get Aya back._

Aya was bone tired and a little crazy. Perhaps that was why, as he limped through the door of the Koneko no Sumu Ie, katana clutched in one hand, Yojhi's car keys in the other, he had the strangest, most uncharacteristic urge to start giggling. He had really fucked up this time. Without bothering to turn on the lights, he just sat himself at the kitchen table and waited for the others – for Yojhi - to come home.

It was raining out; he was dripping pink-tinged water on the table. Would have to clean that up. Soon. He was glad that Manx had been grateful enough for his last minute efforts that she had said that a mission report could wait till tomorrow; he could hardly stand the thought of staying awake long enough to shower, let alone type up a report. And he really wanted to shower, wanted to wash tonight off of him. But first, he had to speak to Yoji. Somehow he doubted that was going to make him any better.

He felt the urge to groan, realizing that he had the morning shift, had swapped with Omi since the boy had wanted to take Ken and Yojhi to that movie. Aya had been glad not to be asked. He didn't like going to movies, didn't like sitting in crowded cinemas, surrounded by strangers. He couldn't afford to relax, didn't deserve to …. so he wasn't at all disappointed that they hadn't thought to include him in their plans. Not at all. And after all, if he'd been along with them, then Manx wouldn't have been able to find him, and the opportunity for tonight's mission would have been lost. He couldn't risk disappointing. He had to stay focused for Aya-chan. For revenge.

At some point his head had fallen forwards on to the table. Strange. You would think he would remember doing that. When had he last slept? It had been a couple of days, he was sure. Mission after mission, some with the team, some solo. What would happen if he was to demand a few days off? He shook his head, almost horrified at the thought that had crossed his mind. Must be even more tired than he'd thought. It was all worth it, if it kept Aya safe, and got him closer to Takitori.

The mission tonight had been a complete success from Weiss' point of view. The target was undeniably dead, he hadn't been caught, or seriously damaged. His eyes narrowed. Not yet anyway. There was still Yojhi to come. A flash of the dead man's contorted face passed before his eyes. Confusion and pain written in every line. The sudden smell of blood. The sound of metal ripping through flesh. Just routine. Not for the first time he wondered what Aya-chan would say if she could see her beloved brother now. Nothing but a heartless killer.

The sound of laughter and footsteps made Aya raise his head, scowling. He heard the other three assassins enter the shop, heard a muffled exclamation, then silence. The door slammed open, the light snapped on. Aya didn't blink. It was odd how surprised the others seemed to see him. Then again, he was sitting in the dark in his blood stained mission clothes. Probably not what they were expecting. He stood up and walked towards Yojhi.

"I borrowed your car. It's gone."

He dropped the keys into the blonds hand and walked past him towards the stairs. Yojhi's voice stopped.

"What the hell do you mean _Aya_?" It was unpleasant to hear his sister's name spat like that. He didn't turn round.

"I took your car. Mine is in the garage. There was an incident."

He felt a hand grab his shoulder, and resisted the urge to draw his katana. Yojhi had every right to be upset for once. He was whirled round, and found himself staring into the eyes of a very angry assassin.

"You took my car without asking and crashed it?" Yojhi hissed. The other two were being very quiet. Aya looked sideways and saw that they were staring, wide-eyed, though Omi looked like he was dying to intervene.

He turned back to Yojhi. "No." he said, calmly.

"What do you mean no!" Yojhi yelled.

"I didn't crash."

"Well what the hell happened then, Aya!" Yojhi was shaking him by the shoulders.

Aya's eyes narrowed. He reached up and twisted free, relatively effortlessly. He looked straight into Yojhi's eyes. "My target's bodyguard had a rocket launcher."

He walked away without looking back, somehow aware of a change in the tone of the silence behind him.

_Please review. This is almost certainly not a one shot._


	2. Chapter 2

_Well . . . shit._ Yojhi thought, as the door to Aya's room closed firmly. _What the hell am I supposed to do now? _

He ignored the looks that Omi and Ken were giving him, and ruthlessly crushed his own desire to run after the younger assassin and apologize. Seven was gone and it was Aya's fault. He had every right to be angry. Why should he be all-forgiving and worried just because Aya was a little hurt?

_(Just because Aya could have been more than a little hurt. Just because while he had been laughing and joking with Ken and Omi through that terrible movie, Aya could have been being killed by men with rocket launchers.)_

What had Aya been doing on a mission anyway? Yojhi had purposefully encouraged Omi to want to go see that movie and had then invited himself and Ken along for the sole purpose of leaving the house to Aya. It had taken quite a lot of work, and not a little sacrifice on his part. Films with cute talking animals just weren't his thing. But he knew – through close, and totally platonic observation - that Aya would only be able to fully relax if he was entirely alone. And Aya needed to relax. He had been working too hard lately, and spending all his free time brooding. So Yojhi had come up with a plan to let Aya relax. He hadn't expected gratitude, or even recognition, but he had never even considered that Aya would take on a mission and borrow and destroy Yojhi's car. His poor, beloved Seven! _(His poor, beloved Aya.)_

It had been a good night, despite the talking animals, and Yojhi had been relaxed and contented. Perhaps that was why when they arrived home, with Ken and Omi doing a spirited impression of the squeaky rats from the film, it had been such a shock to realize that something was wrong. He wasn't sure precisely what had first tipped him off. The fact that the shop was dark, but the door was unlocked perhaps. Aya was normally very security conscious. Or perhaps he had already seen the wet, uneven footprints. But by the time he had seen the blood trail along the corridor, he wasn't surprised. Terrified, but not surprised. Scores of unpleasant possibilities crowded his mind, all centering on Aya. He knew that the swordsman could take care of himself, but rationality had never really been one of Yojhi's strong points. He saw his teammate overwhelmed by a dozen thugs, hellbent on vengeance for some mission. He could see Aya fall, could hear him curse Yojhi's name, blaming him for not being there. He imagined Aya being kidnapped and tortured by Critical's enemies, or almost worse, being stabbed through the chest by some random burglar after nothing more than money.

_(He would never admit to himself that what had truly frozen his heart for a few, long seconds had been the thought that Aya might have done something truly stupid. Might have hurt himself. He would never dare admit, even to himself, that he feared how close to the edge they all walked. Especially Aya.)_

That was why he had been quite so quick to condemn. Worry turned very quickly to anger in Yojhi's experience. He supposed that that was what a mother experienced, waiting for a teenager to come home when they're already late . . . ok. Yuck. Yojhi made a mental note never to compare himself to Aya's mother again.

But he should have stopped to find out how badly Aya was hurt. Shouldn't he? _(There was blood on the kitchen table.)_ His hand clenched tightly around the car keys. The jagged metal pinched into his flesh. Seven had been so perfect and he would never see her again. Her gleaming curves. The adorable little dent in her right fender. The contented purr of her engine as they sped into the sunset together.

Suddenly he realized that Omi had been trying to get his attention.

"What?" he asked irritably.

"I said do you think that one of us should go and find out if Aya's ok?"

His hand closed on the keys again. "Nah. The prick deserves what he gets." he snapped, and stormed into his own room. Rocket launchers. Only Aya.

Aya lay back on his bed, balancing his katana in the palm of his hand, watching its point waver towards the ceiling. He had heard Yojhi. 'That prick deserves what he gets'. True. More true than Yojhi could ever know.

Gently revolving the katana, he thought how ironic it would be if it just – slipped. Killed by his own bade. How wonderful.

He stood up quickly and put it on its stand. The room was swimming slightly. He lay down again, face to the wall, knees tucked up to his chest.

Presently someone knocked quietly on his door. He ignored them. Eventually they went away.


	3. Chapter 3

Sorry that this chapter has taken so long, my head has been in the clouds.

* * *

Omi was scrubbing at the kitchen table with a damp cloth. It didn't seem to be shifting. He rubbed his forehead and wondered whether there was a market for a book of cleaning tips for assassins. He'd certainly pay money for something like that … on the other hand, Aya-kun was the only one who really got bent out of shape about the place being in a mess, so maybe Omi should just tell him to clean up his own bloodstains. The boy chuckled slightly to himself. Somehow, he didn't think that would go down too well.

Giving up on the errant stain for the moment, Omi started to investigate the contents of the fridge. Tension made him hungry. He made a face at the nearly empty fridge; apparently no-one had been shopping for a few days. Selecting an apple and half a sandwich, (and who _did _keep putting half eaten sandwiches back in the fridge anyway?) he sat down at the kitchen table.

This had not been a good evening. Well, it had started out good – that had been a great movie, and Ken and Yojhi seeing it with him, had really made him happy. If only Aya-kun had come too. Everything was better when they were all together in Omi's opinion. But Yojhi had been insistent that Aya not be invited. Maybe Yojhi had already been angry with Aya? No, that didn't seem right somehow. Yojhi hadn't been angry till they got home. But he'd been angry before he learnt about Seven.

Omi didn't think, somehow, that he would ever understand the thing between Yojhi and Aya. If he or Ken had even scratched Yojhi's beloved car, then they almost certainly wouldn't remain alive for long. (He shuddered, remembering the time when he had spilt ice-cream on one of the seats.) Aya got Seven blown up, and walked away without a scratch. Well, Omi thought with a sigh, none that weren't there before anyway. But Yojhi was _angry_ and Aya-kun was . . . well, Aya was Aya, and that was difficult enough to live with. Somehow, Omi suspected that life in the Koneko no Sumu Ie was going to be unbearable for the foreseeable future.

His train of thought was interrupted by the sound of footsteps on the stairs. Looking up, he saw Ken with a decidedly relieved expression on his face. That couldn't be good. Ken had been supposed to be checking on Aya-kun, and that should have taken longer…

"How is he?" Omi asked, as Ken flung himself onto a chair, swinging it back precariously.

Ken shrugged, apparently eyeing the remains of Omi's sandwich. "Don't know. He didn't answer."

Omi frowned. "And that doesn't worry you?" He was fairly certain that he knew why.

"Well, I mean, uh… I didn't want to disturb him." Yep. Aya was scary. "Why don't you go. Aya won't mind if it's you." Omi wasn't so sure about that.

"You lost the coin toss, it's your turn." he snapped.

"But, Omi…" Ken whined. Omi could feel his will weakening. He always found it hard to resist Ken. "Aya likes you better."

"Ken…" Omi started, but Ken interrupted.

"And I'll do all your deliveries for a month, and make you coffee every morning…"

Omi wondered when checking on Aya had become such a chore. Weren't they supposed to be a team, to look after each other? Just because Aya-kun was … difficult didn't mean that he wasn't one of them. "I'll go." he said quietly.

Ken shut his mouth. As Omi stood up and headed for the stairs, he saw Ken reach over and grab the remains of the sandwich.

Omi swallowed nervously, and rapped on Aya's door. "Aya-kun. It's Omi. May I come in?" No answer. "If you don't say anything, I'm going to come in anyway." he called.

The door swung open. Aya was standing there, wearing his orange sweater. Omi did his best to ignore the fact that the older assassin looked angry and pushed past him into the room. "Good evening Aya-kun. Where are you injured."

Aya's eyes narrowed. Omi felt even more nervous. "Leave. Now."

Omi shook his head, with what he hoped was his normal cheery demeanor. "Nope, not going to happen." He looked Aya up and down. There was a darker red staining his hair, his eyes were somewhat unfoccused and his arm was folded across his ribcage. Great. He returned Aya's glare with one of his own. "Don't move." he said coldly, then ran to the bathroom and grabbed the first aid kit. He wasn't altogether surprised to see that the door was closed when he returned. God, Aya-kun could be so childish sometimes. Slightly annoyed, he kicked the door open, pleased when it slammed against the wall. Aya was lying on his bed.

"Sit up and take your sweater off so I can see your injuries."

"I'm not hurt." Omi closed his eyes. God grant him patience.

"Aya-kun," he started "Let me treat your injuries right now, or I'll call Persia and get you suspended for the next month."

Inwardly he winced at the expression on Aya's face. He felt like such a traitor, especially, when Aya didn't say anything but started to pull his sweater over his head.

There was a nasty-looking gash on Aya's side, and a whole lot of bruising. Omi caught his breath. They'd all been hurt worse than this in the past, but Aya trying to cope on his own made the situation sort of scary. If it hadn't been that they'd seen the blood downstairs, they might never have known that Aya was hurt. Omi couldn't help wonder if Aya had successfully hid injuries in the past. He pulled some cotton wool and disinfectant out of the bag, and started to clean Aya's side.

Feeling uncomfortable with the silence, Omi asked casually "So who was your target, anyway."

"Yamaguchi Jiyuu. He is..was… the head of a medical corporation responsible for releasing untested drugs onto the population. There were deaths." Aya's voice sounded distant. Omi wondered if the disinfectant was hurting him.

"I take it everything went ok?" he asked thoughtlessly, wondering if the target had been killed. Aya looked up at him, and he could feel his cheeks flushing. "I meant, apart from the rocket launcher of course. Sorry."

He was so embarrassed that he almost missed it when Aya quietly answered. "Yes. I killed him."

"Good. I mean…good." He moved his hand suddenly and felt Aya tense beneath him. "Sorry, Aya-kun."

"Don't worry about it." Aya gasped.

Omi pulled out the bandages and began to bind Aya's chest. For a while there was silence. Omi concentrated on getting the bandages to sit just so. He had to do this far too often, for all of them. Sometimes, very rarely, he wished that they were just florists, that they didn't have their more dangerous night time job.

Finished, he began cleaning the cut on Aya's head. He bit his lip. It seemed fairly deep. This was obviously where most of the blood had come from.

"Omi, do you think that Yojhi is very upset?" Startled, Omi considered the unexpected question. He didn't quite know what to say. Yojhi had seemed angry, but somehow, he didn't think that he should tell Aya that."

"I don't know." he stalled, "he really loved that car."

Aya seemed to be studying his boots. "Yes. He did."

"I'm sure he won't blame you." Omi offered, feeling sorry for his friend.

"He should." Aya said, in a tone that brooked no contradictions. Omi sighed. Somehow, he was sure that his two elders would have to work this out for themselves.

Omi finished putting a plaster on the cut. That should keep it safe from infection. Now to check if Aya-kun had a concussion. "How many fingers am I holding up?" he asked.

"Three." Aya answered. Omi looked at his hand. Sure enough, he was holding up three fingers. But Aya hadn't looked up.

"Aya-kun?"

"You always hold up three fingers, Omi."

Damn. He'd never noticed that before. OK, what was another way to check for concussion…aha! He grabbed a book off the shelf above Aya's head and opened it at random. "Read that out loud." he snapped.

Aya frowned at him, and looked down at the book, but seemed to be unable to focus on it.

"You have a concussion, Aya-kun." Omi said.

"I know." came the answer. Sometimes Omi wondered why he bothered.

"Right, you're coming downstairs. We need to keep you awake." The scowl that came his way was one of Aya's better efforts.

* * *

Well, that's that for now. Please let me know what you think. I'm planning another Weiss story at the moment, that will be rather more action oriented. It is also noteworthy that it will contain the line "Would I hurt God more if I was naked?" Watch this space. 


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